


Alchemy

by jewelianna88



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-23
Updated: 2011-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 13:44:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jewelianna88/pseuds/jewelianna88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Justin comes to tour rehearsals with one clear goal: seduce Lance Bass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alchemy

_The moon was shining in the sky  
Reminding me of so many other nights  
But they're not like tonight.  
-But Not Tonight, Depeche Mode_

The thing with Justin and Lance started a long time ago, and Justin figured two years was probably long enough for it to go on before something changed. Two years ago, he'd gone through the toughest break-up of his life, leaving a girl he'd loved for years after giving her chance after chance and having them thrown back in his face. Lance had been there-- had sat with him while he whined and cried for hours at a time, taken him out to get drunk when the tears had stopped, and held his head over the toilet when they'd started again, this time spurned on by copious amounts of liquor.

The thing, whatever it was, had started just after that. Justin was whining about how girls never understood what it meant to just have a good old fuck. How with Britney it was always roses and candlelight, and how she never wanted to just be taken up against the wall. Lance had grinned like the devil and laughed.

"That's why I fuck guys," Lance said simply, never expecting what was to happen next.

Justin later thought that it might have been a mistake to kiss Lance then, to strip him of his clothes in the back of the tour bus and bend him over the bed. He was afraid it would make things awkward or uncomfortable. He was wrong though, and that's how the whole thing started. Since then, whenever they were both in the same city and lonely or horny or just plain in the mood, they'd ended up together, in more non-descript hotel suites than Justin could name. Afterwards, they'd dress and go out, or one of them would go back to his own room or home, nothing weird between them, knowing they'd do it again the next time.

It was time, though, that things changed. Which was why, as he drove the long road to Orlando that spring, Justin had a clear plan in mind: to seduce Lance Bass. Not into bed, but into a relationship, something Justin had come to realize he wanted very desperately. And Justin always got what he wanted.

They'd gotten the new album recorded in bits and pieces, the five of them rarely in the studio together. The songs were great, an amalgam of creative genius that had blossomed in all five of them over the past few months. Still, Justin had hated not having them all together for the recording of it. He and JC had done all of the producing this time, and the guys wrote all of the material themselves. They'd dubbed the album "all ours," but Justin didn't really feel like it had been a group effort at all, since they'd been scattered all over while recording most of the parts. This was going to be their first real chance to work together.

With a tour in the works, they had two weeks of intensive training to work out choreography and blocking. The set list had been decided. The first video was shot and set to premier on TRL a few days. It had been a unanimous decision to choose Chris's only song contribution for the first single.

"It's called Free," Chris told them when he'd first sent out the CD and music for them all to sample. "And it's cool cause it can be about a relationship, a friendship, a family thing, or just someone running away from the world." They'd loved it, and shot the video out in the Utah desert. Five guys, driving along long deserted roads, in sweet convertibles or hot motorcycles, with group shots standing around these giant boulders and natural arches. They were supposed to be doing a call-in to TRL for the premier and a live performance in a few weeks.

The focus on everyone's mind, though, was the tour. JC and Justin were still in tour shape, somewhat, but Justin knew the others, especially Chris, were worried about getting back into the routine of dancing for hours each day. They'd tone down some of the stage moves, he figured, especially since this album focused more on the R&B side of pop than the techno. Even some of JC's more upbeat songs were styled for club dancing, not meant for large amounts of choreography. It would be tough, though, even with a lighter load than their previous concerts. Three years was a long time to be away.

They were working at the compound again, at Johnny's request. Justin figured that Johnny liked to keep an eye on them so he knew any crazy ideas they got and could head them off before costing him a whole lot of money. Choreographers were coming in tomorrow: Marty, Jamal, and some new people Lance and JC scoped out in LA over the past few months. Justin let them take over that aspect. Years ago, he would have insisted on all of them being a part of every decision. Going solo taught him how valuable it was to be able to split the workload among five different people.

The house was dark when Justin drove up the first night, except for a light way in the back of the first floor- the kitchen, he figured. He stretched as he emerged from his new Range Rover. He'd driven down from Memphis, where he'd spent the past month with his family.

The four guys, along with Johnny and a few of his assistants sat around the kitchen table, eating dinner. His eyes went first to Lance, admiring how he managed to make even a polo shirt unbelievably sexy. After a moment of ogling, he stepped into the room.

"Hope you saved some for me," Justin said, smiling as he pulled up a chair.

There were hugs and choruses of hellos as he slipped into place. Lance passed him a paper plate and he shoveled two pieces of pizza onto it. Suddenly, he was starving. Someone passed him a Coors Light that hissed when he opened it and tasted deliciously cool as he swallowed.

"Where's the kid?" Justin asked, looking at Joey. He'd expected to see Joey's daughter there. She loved playing with her uncles.

"At home. It's mommy's turn to read stories tonight." Joey grabbed the last piece of meat lovers from the box, just under JC's outreached hand.

"Hey!" JC cried. He tried to get the slice, but Joey was sitting too far away.

Justin laughed along with the rest of the guys, glad to be back with them. Johnny was talking about staging and prices, but Justin shrugged it away. Whatever it cost, he could afford it, and he'd told Johnny that he could up his share if necessary, if the others balked at prices. He had more than he needed, and he'd rather spend it on a tour than more cars to sit in his driveway and rust.

They sat and talked long into the night. Johnny and his guys left around twelve, with plans to be back early in the morning. The rest of them stayed hours later, just talking and catching up. It had been too long. Stories were swapped, some of which were true, some of which were greatly exaggerated. Justin leaned back in his chair and listened, laughing when it was called for. It was good to be back.

Finally, though, they locked up the Compound and drove back to their homes. Lance was staying at Joey's, Justin found out, since he'd sold his Orlando house a few months earlier.

"I was just never here," he said, " and my hotel bill in LA was bigger than my mortgage payments, which didn't seem right." It made sense to Justin, but he liked having his house in Orlando. Although he hadn't been there for a substantial period of time in years, he was connected here, had ties to the region. It was as much a home to him as Tennessee.

Lance was looking good, though, and happy, so Justin didn't begrudge his decision. Hiatus had been good to him, Justin thought. While Justin could claim commercial success and financial gain, Lance had gotten some of his spirit back. Looking at pictures of them from the last tour, Justin thought Lance had turned into a shell of himself. Over the break, he'd seen the old Lance reemerging, and the results were spectacular. He looked good, laughed more, and generally exuded more confidence. It was incredibly appealing.

That was what started the whole thing, he figured, the way Lance had changed. But it was more than that. Around Challenge, he had realized that there was something about Lance that drew him in. He'd finagled it so they were on the same team, forced to spend as much time together as possible. And while he had been there with his girlfriend at the time and Lance with his boyfriend, they'd somehow managed to find time alone together.

Ever since, Justin had been thinking about Lance, waiting for the right time to make his move. This was it, as best he could guess, and he wasn't going to blow it.

Too bad he was staying at Joey's, though. Justin wondered how long it'd take to convince Lance to crash to his place instead.

**

Tour design, Justin thought, was something he sucked at. That's why he loved his club shows-- they didn't involve any fancy planning. It was also why he liked having four other people to give input.

They were sitting around the Compound's meeting room, which consisted of sofas and a fireplace instead of a conference table. It was where most of the major decisions involving the group took place. They were spending the first day of pre-tour work on plans and meeting with choreographers.

"I think we should definitely do the small stage thing again," JC said.

"OK. But how?" Chris asked. "We've done the stage moving, the drop down, the flying. Unless they've invented teleportation and no one told me, we've kind of run out of ideas there." He was sitting on the arm of the sofa wearing layers of shirts. Justin felt hot just looking at him. Chris'd lost some of the weight he'd put on during hiatus, but kept enough that he didn't look starving anymore. Justin didn't think Chris had ever looked better, and gave his best menacing glares at those who suggested otherwise.

"Can we do a center stage?" Lance asked. They were doing an arena tour again, much preferring it to the massive stadium tours. It also weatherproofed the tour, which was slated to go well into the fall.

"That could work," JC said. He scratched his ear as Johnny sketched out a quick diagram.

"How will that effect the choreography?" Johnny wanted to know.

"We haven't really set anything up yet, so it could work." Joey was jiggling his foot next to Justin. He'd been late that morning, and had to leave early in the afternoon. Kelly was sick with some flu bug and the nanny had a class to get to at seven. Justin'd thought Joey was pretty stupid for hiring a college kid to work for them, but Jenny was very sweet and completely in love with Briahna. That didn't stop Justin from fearing she'd show up with a gaggle of fans one day. He had very little trust for girls his age.

Bringing his mind back to the issue, Justin glanced at the diagram. "I think we can do it," he said, studying the drawing. "Maybe put the band in the pit, keep the stage open?"

"Can we do it more of an oval?" Lance asked. "Bring it closer on the ends, make it fit the floor better?"

They kept at the plans for a while. The more they talked about it, the more excited Justin got. He'd had enough down time that he was ready to go again, anxious to be back on the road and in front of a crowd.

Once they had the basics, they broke for lunch. They were meeting with the choreographers at one.

"You know," Justin said to Joey as they headed back to the rehearsal studio, "someday we're gonna run out of idea for these things."

"Nah." Companionably, Joey threw his arm over Justin's shoulders. "When that time comes, we'll just start taking off our clothes. Strip tease for 90 minutes to the tune of Bye Bye Bye."

Joey was doing a pretty good routine when JC walked into the studio minutes later. He was shirtless with his ass inches from Justin's face, bumping and grinding while singing the striptease song. If he hadn't already been doubled over with laughter, the horrified look on JC's face would have been enough to send Justin over the edge.

**

Morning dawned too early for Justin's vacationing mindset, and he had to drag himself back over to Johnny's, stopping for coffee on the way. He'd smiled sleepily at the girl in the drive-through window, who'd shyly asked for his autograph and confessed she'd asked off work just to be home for their video premier the next afternoon. He told the other guys that when he got to the Compound, as it seemed a good way to start the day.

"You mean," Chris gasped, "people remember us?"

Joey laughed.

"No, Joe, this isn't a laughing matter. We haven't had a video out in three years, which is about seven hundred thousand times the length of the typical teenage attention span. We need to call scientists about this. This is a major break-through." He jumped onto Joey, then, and Joey started to run across the room with Chris falling off his back.

That's how the new choreographer found them, JC holding Chris up as he tried to climb over Joey's shoulders, Lance sagged against the mirrors laughing, and Justin taking pictures with his new digital camera. What a welcome, he thought, and went over to say hello, since the new guy looked like he was going to dart out the door at any moment.

The first day was long. Very long. Lots of warm-up, then trying to run through some of the old stuff before breaking into the new.

"Bye, Bye, Bye," Justin said. "Let's start with an easy one."

"Which version?" JC asked. "Video, Strings Tour, Pop Tour, Live performance, or Celebrity Tour?" The others stared at him like he had three heads. "What? They're all different."

"The basic one," Justin turned on the CD. Taking his place in the middle, they all started. Justin caught a glimpse in the mirror at one point, and things looked good. It needed polishing, but it looked good.

After that came It's Gonna Be Me, then some stuff from their first album. Pop presented more of a challenge, and they all seemed to like Justin's suggestion of completely rechoreographing it. Justin just really didn't want to do any of Wade's stuff. Bad vibes, as JC would say.

They took a break for lunch, then started to work with new guy, whose name was Benson. He hadn't done much work for musicians, but he'd been choreographing off-Broadway for years and had a style that worked for the five of them. After watching for the morning, he had a pretty good idea of their strengths and started to work one of the new songs. They got in one good run-though by the end of the day, but more would have required someone getting a forklift to pull Joey off the floor.

"Hot tub," was all Lance said, and the others followed. They all had a bag of stuff for work at Johnny's that included wet suits, bathing suits, towels, spare clothes, and other random items that work at the Compound usually required. Justin changed in one of the downstairs bathrooms and joined his friends in the Jacuzzi on Johnny's deck.

"Curly, you're just too damn energetic," Joey said, laying back his head. "How are you even able to move?"

Justin shrugged and slipped into the water, letting it sooth away his aches. "I've been on tour pretty much straight through," he said. "You haven't."

Across the pool, Joey lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, so I'm outta shape?"

"Yes, you fat tub of lard," Justin said, rolling his eyes. "No, moron, I'm just still in tour shape. No one is in tour shape unless they've been on tour."

"Relax, cats," JC murmured. He looked like he was going to fall asleep in the water. "No one's out of shape, we're five incredibly hot men who are going to work really hard and break the hearts of every woman in the audience." Dreamily, he smiled at his friends. "What do you think we're going to do about remixing? That worked really well last time."

"I think we should do another multiple solo medley," Justin said. "Maybe of our own stuff this time. Break it up some, you know."

"Mmm, I like that." Chris leaned back. "I want to sing Falling, you can't have that again."

"Deal." JC smiled. "You know I never wanted it in the first place, that wasn't my idea."

"I know," Chris said. "I'm just a bitter old man."

"You're not old," came a chorus of four voices, and everyone laughed.

Eventually, JC really did nod off to sleep, so Joey slung him over his shoulder to carry him inside. He woke with a start when the cool air swept across his legs, nearly sending both of them to the ground. Chris followed a few minutes later, claiming he was expecting a phone call, but his droopy eyelids revealed his true motive.

Justin and Lance were left alone in the hot tub. Perfect. Justin drifted across from Lance, sliding down into the water until only his head was left above the surface.

"This feels so good," Justin murmured. The water was just the right temperature, the air steamy, and Lance's toes were brushing the hair on his legs, sending shivers up his spine.

Lance said something in reply, but Justin couldn't hear him.

"What?"

Again, he couldn't hear the answer.

"I can't hear you."

"Then come over and sit on this side again, cause I'm too tired to yell." Lance's voice probably would've sounded pissy except that Justin had known him long enough to determine the subtle differences between annoyance and exhaustion. It felt good to realize he remembered that.

Shifting in the water, Justin resumed his seat next to Lance. He stretched his body out to float, anchoring his toes on the bench across the pool. Still, the churning water swept his body, until his shoulder bumped up against Lance's. Lance grabbed Justin's knee to steady him, but didn't take his hand away.

"I had an idea about something," Justin said, head barely above the water, "but I wasn't sure how it would fly, so. Mind if I run it by you?"

"Sure." Lance was leaning his head back and looking up at the sky. The porch lights made it impossible to see stars, but the moon was a bright crescent out over the lawn.

"I know we were talking about getting Wayne to do the next video, and that's cool and all, but. I was thinking maybe we could ask Joey to do it." Justin stopped there, letting the idea sink into Lance's head.

It was a moment before he replied. "That's actually a really good idea. I never would have thought of it, but. He did a video for a friend of his, actually."

"I know, one of the Big Guys. Anyway, I just figured since this is supposed to be the all us album-- you know, we write it, we produce it. It'd be cool if we could say "we direct it" too."

Justin let his body float in the water. His fingers were already starting to wrinkle, but he didn't want to get out. He'd only just begun.

Beside him, Lance shifted, and Justin soon saw two feet pop up out of the water next to his. He glanced out of the corner of his eye to see Lance floating beside him, hand still warm on his knee. He smiled when Lance looked his way. Lance groaned and moved a little to his right to position a jet under his back. He tugged Justin along.

"God, I'm sore. I thought I'd stayed in such good shape, too." Justin balked. Lance was in pretty fine shape, all hard muscles and firm tanned skin. Yum.

"I haven't really gotten a chance to talk to you since we all got here," Justin started. "What's going on in your life?"

"Mmm. Not much." Lance sighed as the massager started to work out the kinks in his back.

"Are you still seeing Jesse?" Justin asked. He'd met Lance's boyfriend a few times. He was nice enough, more intelligent than most of the models Justin knew, and seemed to care about Lance. There just wasn't anything very special about him.

"Ah, no." Lance looked over at Justin, licking his lips. "He was getting too pushy about coming to things, you know. Too out." Justin nodded his head, secretly elated. He felt bad for Lance, who'd made a decision long ago that he wanted his sex life kept private. Knowing that would never happen were he to be out, he'd kept his sexuality secret from most of the world. Justin heard the rumors, of course, and some people even asked flat out about Lance, but overall, Lance had done a great job of hiding his preference for men from the media.

"Sorry, dude." Justin rubbed at Lance's shoulder. "This life of ours really sucks sometimes."

Lance sighed again. "Yeah, it really does. Anyway, that ended, like, a month ago, and I've just been laying low since."

"Mmm." Laying low was something that Justin understood.

"I went to my friend's wedding," Lance continued. "Becky Seebrook, this girl from high school. That was weird."

"How come?"

"That someone I knew was getting married. Like, she's the first one of my friends to get married. It's an odd feeling. She's going to be all settled down and having kids soon."

"Joey's getting married," Justin said.

"Yeah, but, like. I haven't known Joey since I was 10. And he's already got a kid. I dunno, it just felt different."

Justin didn't know, because he didn't have many people he'd known that long, and he certainly didn't have any close friends getting married, except Joey.

"Do you ever think you're going to be there?" Justin asked. "Cause I can't see myself getting married. I mean, I can see myself someday living a normal life, with kids, you know, getting up in the morning and having dinner together, but. I can't see myself finding someone, dating, and then asking them to marry me, with the wedding and everything. I dunno." He didn't mention yet that in his mind, it was Lance sitting across from him at the dinner table.

"Yeah. It's harder to imagine that than what comes after." Lance turned his head so that he was looking at Justin. "But I think someday, yeah, I'll be there."

The jets turned off, suddenly, and the quiet was overwhelming. Reaching behind him, Justin pushed the button again to bring back the bubbles.

"One more round?" he asked, sliding back into the water.

"OK." Lance had moved a bit away from Justin, so Justin allowed the water to carry him back until they were bumping at the shoulders. It felt better to be close.

Neither of them had talked about the possibility of hooking up during tour rehearsal. It was probably inevitable, especially since they were both unattached. But their-- encounters, Justin thought-- were never planned. They just happened. Sitting in the water, under the moon, he wondered if Lance was thinking about the same thing.

With a slight turn of his head, Justin looked at Lance floating beside him. His chest rose above the water, along with the tips of his toes. When Justin lifted a hand across his body to lightly trace the rise of muscle in Lance's pecs, neither of them said a word. Lance just turned his head and studied Justin, question in his eyes.

Pressing forward, Justin closed his eyes and touched his lips to Lance's mouth, groaning as Lance kissed back. It felt wonderful, sending rockets of pleasure down to his toes. Slowly, their lips danced together, moving against one another, then with each other, seeking more. Lance brought his hands to Justin's shoulders and tugged, until Justin was turned over and straddling Lance's lap. Lance grabbed the back of Justin's thighs and tugged, pulling him up so their bodies were touching as their mouths worked against each other.

Justin leaned away, but Lance drew him back, kissing him again, this time opening his mouth to use teeth and tongue to drive Justin slowly mad. Justin raised a hand to Lance's cheek, the scratchy stubble providing glorious texture against his palm as his body melted from the kisses. Lance held onto Justin, keeping him from slipping away, letting out a low groan when Justin's mouth left his to mark a trail of kisses down his jawline to the pulse point behind his ear.

"Oh, God," Lance moaned, as Justin's tongue did wonderful things. The hot water swirled around them and his face chilled where exposed to the air. He used his thumbs to rub circles on Justin's legs, sliding them higher under the loose material of Justin's swimsuit.

Holding onto Lance, Justin leaned back as Lance's mouth met his shoulder, sucking on pulse points and collarbones, tasting every inch of skin that rose above the steaming water. Justin leaned his head back and relished the feeling of Lance's mouth against his skin. This was new, this heated kissing, something they'd never done in the two years they'd been fucking.

"What're we doing?" Justin asked, his voice choppy and breathless as Lance used teeth against his collarbone, biting down just hard enough to shock Justin's nervous system.

"I dunno," Lance said, his eyes half closed as he returned his attention to Justin's mouth, kissing him again. "But it feels really, really good." Justin couldn't argue with that so he kissed Lance again, using teeth to nip and pull, using tongue to soothe.

When Lance slipped a hand further up the leg of Justin's trunks, Justin reached down to stop him. It would have felt good, so good to just let Lance bring him off with his hands, but it was too open, too public, too much for his system to handle right there. "Enough," he whispered into Lance's ear. He had to go slow, he knew, even though his body was screaming to speed up. Justin expected Lance would pull back and it would be over. Instead, Lance slid his hand back around Justin's thighs, pulling him closer, grinding against him, and never stopping the kiss.

Justin lost track of time. The jets stopped again, he knew, but this time the silence wasn't uncomfortable or pressing. Instead, it made all of his other senses take notice, the feel of Lance's hands on his skin, the taste of Lance's lips and his tongue, the smell of the chlorine in the pool. All of it heightened his arousal as Justin shifted his head to change the angle, making the kiss new again, and again, and again.

Finally, they did pull apart, lips swollen and breathing hard. Justin knew Lance was as hard as he was, but neither of them made a move toward relief. There was something different here; this wasn't about that at all.

"Um. I think we'd better get going. Long day tomorrow and everything," Lance said. He hauled himself out of the water, dripping on the deck as he walked to his towel. Justin followed, shivering in the cool night air.

Justin dried the best he could, wrapping the towel around his waist as he gathered the rest of his things. Barefoot, he shoved his sneakers in his duffel bag and lumbered over to the car.

"See you tomorrow?" Justin asked, as he locked the gate between the driveway and the back yard.

"Mmmm. Goodnight, Justin." Lance waved a little as he climbed into his car, and Justin thought he might have been blushing as he drove away. He followed Lance's car out of the neighborhood, then turned in the opposite direction to go home. He realized as he was getting out of the car that his lips were still tingling, and he touched them gingerly, wondering if he was having the same effect on Lance.

**

Trace called that evening, and Justin realized he hadn't talked to his best friend in days. They'd spent most of the hiatus attached at the hip, and he was shocked to realize he hadn't noticed Trace's absence more acutely.

"Hey, man. How's the prep work going?" Trace sounded like he was eating something, crunching at the other end of the line.

"It's good, good. We just started really, though, so who knows. How's life in LA?" Justin had convinced Trace to housesit for him. Not that it had taken much convincing.

"Things are fine, man, just fine. Had a few girls over last night, you know, usual drill."

Justin closed his eyes and prayed they hadn't robbed him blind. He'd find his underwear on EBay, he was sure of it. "That's cool man, just keep them out of my stuff, you know?"

"Relax, J, we were outside all night. Only time they were inside was to get beers from the fridge."

Which meant Justin had to have his Jacuzzi decontaminated, but that was a worry for another day.

"So, how is everyone down there?" Trace was saying.

"Good. JC's still riding high on his album, you know. Chris is more settled, more assertive. He's got a new dog, so life is good. Joey's a little preoccupied with the wedding plans and the baby. You know."

"That's cool. How's the basstronaut?"

"Lance's good," Justin said. "He looks really good, still got all those muscles from training. He must have a hell of a trainer, I should ask him who he's using now. Anyway, he looked really hot today, had on this green shirt that totally matched his eyes."

"Uh-huh. J, what the hell?"

"What?"

"Why're you telling me that Lance's shirt matched his eyes?" Trace was laughing at the other end of the phone.

"Because I'm in love with him and am trying to seduce him into falling in love with me."

"Sure. You got a little crush on Lansten?" Trace continued to laugh, snorting now.

"Fuck you," Justin said, "I'm serious." He slammed down the phone when Trace's laughter continued to echo in his ear.

**

Justin had expected one of two scenarios: either Lance would stop everything after that night, or they'd switch back to the fuck-and-run routine they'd had before. Instead, Justin found himself kissing Lance again and again-at the car door after practice, or in the tiny bathroom next to the dance studio at the Compound. Even in the hallway, with the guys right on the other side of the door.

They all knew Justin and Lance had been screwing around, though it wasn't a subject they'd ever discussed in great length. But Justin didn't really think they knew about the kissing thing. He certainly hoped none of them knew about his grand plan to seduce Lance.

He tried to ask Lance about it, a few days after the hot tub, to gauge how the plot was coming along, but Lance had been so busy kissing him that Justin hadn't gotten a word out. He could feel the control of his masterful seduction slipping away, but the feeling of Lance's lips against his overrode any sort of protest his brain could muster.

**

After a week of rehearsals, Justin could barely move. On a solo tour, he could stop rehearsing once he'd gotten a routine. He'd forgotten that when you're with a group, you did it over and over again until everyone had it perfect. His muscles cried for mercy by the end of the day as he guzzled Advil and water.

He walked back into the studio late one evening to find Lance lying on the floor, dead asleep.

Justin nudged him with a toe. "Hey, man. You dead?"

"Yah, man." Lance didn't move except to smile. "What movie is that from?"

"Um. Something." Justin thought for a moment. "Jamaican. There's an accident of some kind." Vague images ran through his head. "Oh," he said, and snapped his fingers. "The one about the Bobsled team."

"Cool Runnings," Lance mumbled, half opening his eyes. "I haven't been this tired since Germany. Or Russia. I can't remember which was worse."

"Just say Europe," Justin suggested, staring down at his friend on the floor.

"OK." Groaning, Lance tried to sit up. Justin gave him a hand, yanking him to his feet.

"Everyone else gone?" Lance rubbed his aching neck, cursing the head-bobby move they'd been doing all afternoon.

"Yup. JC to bed, Joey to the wife and kid, Chris to Never-Never Land."

"Oh." Looking around, Lance grabbed his stuff. "Want to get something to eat?"

"Sure." Justin couldn't help but smile at Lance's sleepy disorientation. "You alright, man?"

"Yup. Just waking up. Don't let me sleep on the floor anymore," he said as they left the house.

Justin followed in his own car down to Shooters, a bar and grill where they could hide in the back and be relatively unbothered during their meal. They both ordered light beers and burgers, munching on tiny side salads until the meal came.

The food was good, the service quick, and Justin got the added bonus of shooting his straw wrapper into Lance's surprised face, enticing a war of spitballs that earned them dirty looks from their waitress. They left an extra-large tip to compensate, then stood in the dark at the back of the parking lot, shielded from street view by Lance's monster truck.

"So, see you tomorrow?" Justin pressed the button on his key chain to unlock his doors, making his car chirp.

"Mmm." Lance didn't move. Justin eyed him warily.

"What?"

"Nothing," Lance said after a moment.

Grabbing Lance's arm, Justin pressed. "No, what?"

"Does this feel weird to you, like, at all?" Lance asked, exasperated.

"Huh?"

"God, I feel like I'm supposed to kiss you goodnight or something here."

"Yeah?" Justin grinned, and leaned forward, pressing his lips against Lance's. It was brief and chaste, but full of emotion. When Justin drew back, he could see the haziness in Lance's eyes, confusion and, if he was reading it right, something more.

"Goodnight," he said softly, tracing Lance's lips with his thumb before getting into his car and starting the engine. He could see Lance in his rearview mirror as he left the lot, still standing there, stunned.

**

Rehearsal was weird. Justin couldn't keep from staring at Lance in the mirror-and every time he looked, he could see Lance staring back at him. Then Lance would trip over his own feet, causing everyone to groan and start again. Justin grinned to himself. He had Lance frazzled, and although he looked so cute, all flustered and confused, he knew he had to make the next move soon, before the other guys killed them both.

Marty stopped them early for lunch. Both Justin and Lance ducked the odd glances from their groupmates and headed outside. The weather was mild, not too warm for early summer. A beautiful day, Justin thought, and they were spending it in a windowless room.

Lance led the way down the docks, where he sat at the edge. Justin sat down beside him.

"So, I heard now that P.Diddy's done a marathon, he's talking about auditioning for Survivor. You know, for the children." Justin grinned at Lance.

"Really?" Lance smiled back at him. "That's the best ice breaker I've heard in a while."

"I try." There were a few ducks down in the water, and Justin watched them swimming around between the jet-skis. "So. About last night."

"Is it too late to plead insanity?"

"I hope that's not your plea, cause then I'm gonna have a serious problem here."

"Yeah?" Lance took his eyes off the water and stared at Justin. Justin had forgotten how intense Lance's stare was. He hadn't seen it since the old staring contests from their pre-NSA days, when Lou would put them on a bus for days at a time.

"Mmm. I don't really know what to say, though. I mean, something's different." Justin leaned back on his hands, letting the sun bake his neck and shoulders. He kept his eyes on the water, knowing Lance clammed up when you tried to look at him while talking. This was something best done on his own terms.

"You mean why we haven't had sex since we got here?" Lance didn't flinch as he said the words.

"Yeah. There's that, which would be ok, but the fooling around without sex thing is kind of weird, don't you think?"

"Yeah."

"I mean, even last summer when there was Jesse, we all got together-"

"I know," Lance cut him off, but Justin could see he was smiling, remembering. He'd better remember, Justin thought, since Lance had gotten good and fucked that day.

"It's almost as if we're dating," Justin said casually. Just to throw the idea out there, and he prayed Lance's wouldn't laugh.

He didn't, but he did make some weird 'hrmpfh' noise before talking. "God, I don't know what's going on, but something's different and I can't explain it to you because it's you that's different. You used to be all cocky and young and I could tell myself that I just wanted your body but not the rest, but you come here, and you're all mature. I can't tell myself that anymore. I can't pretend that I don't want you. And not just sex, but like, want to hang out with you and kiss you."

"Whoa." It was a lot to take in, swelling his head and his heart to hear such compliments. But the general gist of it, well. Jackpot.

"It's just really confusing. I'm sorry to lay all of this on you. It's been on my mind for a while, actually. I just feel like I want something and I don't really know what it is."

"Something like this?" Justin asked, and kissed him, taking Lance's face in his hands. It was wet and messy and fast, with tongues and teeth and everything Justin expected from kissing Lance. There was more, too, an urgency that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with emotions and feelings that he had come to associate with Lance. He knew exactly what Lance was describing, because it was what he had been thinking for the past few weeks, and if he admitted it, really the past few months. Since he'd stopped touring and taken the time to notice the people around him once again.

Pulling back, Justin kept his hands on Lance, framing his face with long fingers.

There were questions in Lance's eyes, and Justin nodded, hoping he was answering them.

"This is where we've been going," Justin said, finding his voice. "The past few days-hell, the past few years. They've been leading to this."

"I don't know," Lance said, his voice low. He clung to Justin's wrists as if afraid Justin would let go. "I don't know but this isn't just fucking around, at least not for me, at least not anymore, and I don't really know what else it can be."

"Me neither." He paused. "We've never done the relationship thing."

None of them had. Not because of any rules but because before they were so close that any kind of relationship would have been incestuous. Now, though, with time and distance, it was all he could think of.

"We can't keep it a secret," Justin continued. "We'd have to tell them."

"I know," Lance breathed, "but. Later?" He kissed Justin again, and Justin opened to him.

**

Lance went home with him that night. They had a nice dinner and made out some more on the couch. Unfortunately, the phone rang and Justin spent an hour talking to his publicist. When he finally got back to the living room, Lance was gone.

He found him upstairs, in his bedroom. Pushing the door open, Justin saw Lance sitting in bed, reading a book. The room was only lit by the small lamp on the bedside table. Lance was wearing an old T-shirt and his glasses, and he looked absolutely adorable and peaceful.

"Hey," Justin said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "What're you reading?"

"Timeline," Lance answered, folding over the page and setting the book aside. "I saw the movie and it was pretty good, so." He smiled at Justin.

"Are you coming to bed?" Lance asked, leaning forward.

"Mmmm." He took his time, though, changing into pajamas and brushing his teeth. Coming out of the bathroom, he sat down on top of the covers.

"Justin," Lance said, running a hand though his hair. "This is really weird."

"It's not!" He protested, then tried to find a more mature voice. "It's not. It's just new."

Sighing, Lance hugged his knees. The sheets were pulled tight around him, hiding any glimpse of what lay underneath.

"Hey," Justin said, shifting so he sitting more in the middle of the bed. "I want you to believe me that I want this, and I want you to stay here."

"I do believe you," Lance said, and took Justin's hand in his own. "So, are you gonna kiss me, or just sit there all night?"

With a laugh, Justin crawled up the bed to meet Lance with a kiss, falling back on top of him.

"You know," Justin said, between kisses, "We've never," kiss, "just," kiss, "made out," kiss, "like this before."

"Are you talking while kissing me?" Lance asked, tracing the line of Justin's back.

"No," Justin said, and kissed him again. Lance's mouth was eager and pliant beneath his.

They didn't have sex that night, at Justin's suggestion. "We've never just slept together before," he'd said. Lance spooned up behind Justin and throwing an arm over Justin's chest. Justin held Lance's hand between his own, warming his fingers in Lance's grasp. He fell asleep quickly, feeling Lance's warm body against his back. He realized that this was the first time since he was a child that someone had held him in sleep.

**

Telling the guys had gone remarkable well, Justin figured. They'd decided on a divide-and-conquer technique, which made it easier to deal with the questions. Joey and Chris had seemed honestly surprised, but JC only grinned at them.

"About freakin' time," he said. "I was wondering how long it'd take you two to realize it. You've only been perfect for each other, since, like, forever."

They were so supportive, in fact, that they volunteered to let Lance and Justin get up at the crack on dawn the next day for a radio interview together.

Justin hated publicity more than any other part of his job. He hated having to answer questions that had nothing to do with his music or even to do with him. He'd gotten pounded during their radio interview the next morning- why give up on his solo success, what about Britney's song, where's Cameron? It'd taken Lance's hand on his knee to keep him from getting up and leaving, several times.

"Remember when being interviewed was so cool?" Justin asked. It was a rhetorical question.

"Are you getting tired of this," Lance asked later. Justin looked at him in surprise. They were alone in the backroom of the radio station, waiting for the DJ to go off air so they could sign take some photos before leaving.

"What? No."

"Cause you seem kind of, I don't know. Tired? Snippy? Burnt out."

Justin didn't know what to say, really. "It's not that, it's just. I thought it'd be different, you know, that the same old stupid questions would be gone, but they're not. And I can't stand the same thing over and over again." Frustrated, he ran his hands through his hair.

"I'm sorry," Lance said, "that it's so much worse for you than the rest of us." If his tone had been snide, it would have really hurt, but he sounded so sincere and caring that Justin could have cried. Instead, he pulled Lance into a hug, resting his chin on Lance's shoulder, taking comfort there.

"It's not that. I put myself out there." He knew, logically, that it would happen, but it didn't stop him from hoping for reprieve.

"Well, if you want, I'll let them get a picture of me kissing some guy. That'll give them something to talk about." Justin pulled back a bit and saw the sparkle in Lance's eye. He growled fiercely, dropping his arms to Lance's waist.

"You'd better not be kissing any other guys."

Lance grinned and nipped at Justin's nose. "Oh no?"

"No."

"Well then, you'll have to deal with those questions."

"That's OK," Justin answered. "I'm all better now." Lance gave him a quick kiss, then hugged him again. With this kind of support, Justin felt he could take on the world.

So much so that he stormed back into the studio, surprising the DJ and the newsman at their microphones.

"Well, it looks like Justin's back with us, to say goodbye." The Disc Jockey quickly swung a microphone in Justin's direction, trying to work with the interruption.

"Yeah, sure. Listen, I just wanna say that y'all suck. Like, we come here to talk about our music and our album and tour, and all you can do is go on and on about stuff that happened, like, two years ago, you know? And it's really insulting to me that you think I would ditch my friends, that it would even cross my mind to ditch my friends, or that you think I care more about money than about doing what I love, which is making music. And doing it with the guys is just as important to me, if not more important to me, than my solo stuff. And I just wanted to say that it's none of your fucking business what I thought of Britney's song, though for the record, it's a nice song. I don't know if it's about me. It's not like I'm going to run over to her at some award show and ask. It' s certainly not gonna make us get back together. And I mean, how would you like to have to discuss your ex-girlfriend with every single person you meet? It SUCKS.

It's not any of your business, because who I date is my business, and it has nothing to do with the music we sing or the shows we perform, you know? This is about the group, not me. And if you were even semi-decent interviewers, you'd know that. So, like, grow up or something. And get over yourselves."

With that, he stormed out of the room and into the car with Lance at his heels, leaving their publicist to deal with the apologies.

Justin stared out the window the whole way home, feeling Lance's gaze in the back of his head.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." He waited for Lance's reply, expecting to be chastised for losing his temper.

Instead, Lance wrapped him in a hug and clung to him. Justin grabbed back, holding tight, never wanting to let go. He would have cried, but he could feel the chuckles start in Lance's throat, erupting in bubbles of laughter. It was contagious, as Justin soon found himself laughing at the situation, an arm around Lance's back, his face buried in Lance's shoulder.

The laughter stopped when he got home, seeing four solemn faces waiting for him on the couch.

"Um. So I guess you heard," he offered lamely.

"That was really stupid, Justin." JC didn't even take his eyes off of his hands.

"I know."

Johnny looked at him and sighed. "You're going to have to offer to pay the station's fine for swearing on the air."

"OK."

"And probably for Melinda's open heart surgery, because I think she's gonna need a bypass after that."

Justin smiled, a little. "OK."

"And I have a note here from Ms. Spears' publicists?"

Justin groaned and sunk to his knees on the floor. "Don't kill me, Johnny, I've suffered enough today," he cried.

"Ms. Spears' has a two word response to what happened this morning."

"Fuck off?" Joey offered.

"You suck?" That was from Chris.

"Get a lawyer?" JC said. "Wait, no, that's three."

"Thank you." Johnny looked over at Justin. "She says thank you."

With relief, Justin sagged down the floor, as the rest of the guys roared in laughter.

**

Justin drove home that night, Lance right beside him. The day had gone quickly, for all the drama. Rehearsals were nearly done. They were going to start working with the band in a few days, and be on-stage next week.

Slowly, Lance inched his hand up Justin's leg, stopping just shy of the junction of his thighs. He leaned in close, close enough that Justin could smell the hair gel and cologne on Lance.

"I want you to fuck me, so bad, right now," Lance whispered in his ear. Then he nipped at Justin's earlobe and tugged gently, and Justin felt all the blood in his body drain into his cock. Wow. They still hadn't had sex, and Justin was feeling the pressure.

It seemed like forever before they were inside, stripping off clothes. Justin would have gone straight to the bed, but Lance veered off into the bathroom. Eagerly, Justin followed him into the shower.

It took forever to get warm, but Justin waited patiently outside the shower doors, amusing himself by sucking on Lance's shoulders, right at the curve of his arm, making him groan. He was so hard it was actually hurting, and he knew this wouldn't last long at all.

When steam started to rise, they stepped into the glass enclosure, never letting go of each other. Water sluiced over their bodies, creating rivers between them. Justin closed his eyes as the spray fell onto his head, a soft massage compared to Lance's fingers raining down his chest. Down Lance went, never making a sound, taking Justin's raging cock into his mouth. In one gulp he had it all, and Justin groaned. He groped for something to grab on to, but the slick shower walls gave no traction. Instead, he rested one hand on Lance's shoulder and the other at his hip. Lance took that one, linking their fingers. When Justin looked down, he saw Lance staring up at him, big green eyes hazed with lust, and it was enough to send Justin over the edge. He came in spurts on the shower floor, Lance sitting just beyond watching him with those same big eyes.

Breathing hard, Justin leaned back against the wall, his head cracking with a thud. "Ow."

Lance snorted as he stood and stepped toward Justin under the spray again. He grabbed Justin's special soap from the ledge and lathered up a washcloth. Rubbing the suds into Justin's body, he smiled, just a little.

"What're you thinking?" Justin asked, his voice still a bit breathy. He could go through a whole performance barely getting winded, but five minutes with Lance left him gasping for air.

"Afterglow," Lance said, turning Justin so he could wash his back. "You've got an amazing afterglow." Lance pressed a kiss right on the tattoo there, between Justin's shoulder blades. Justin shivered as he felt the bubbles slipping down over his skin.

Turning again, Justin grabbed the washcloth from Lance's hand and let it slip to the floor. "Yeah?" He wrapped his arms around Lance and held him close. "Well, let's see how it compares to yours."

It didn't take more than a few flicks of his wrist and some deep moans before Justin brought Lance over the edge and got to see for himself. It was adorable, he thought, the way Lance blushed all over yet tried to play it cool. And when Justin bent to wash his legs and kissed his knees, he felt them shudder.

They lay in bed later, illuminated only by the moonlight streaming through then draperies.

"Will you show me something?" Justin asked, propping his head up on one hand.

"Sure." Lance had his other hand, tracing the veins his palm with intense concentration. The feather-light trails of his fingers left sparks under Justin's skin.

"Show me how to write my name in Russian?" Lance looked up at his curiously, making Justin blush. "I just want to, you know, learn something from you. Know something that you know."

Lance brushed a kiss on the back of his hand, then reached back for a piece of paper and pen from the night table. He turned on the light, there, casting a warm glow around the room.

"It's like this," Lance said, drawing out the letters with precision that came from months of practice. "There's no J in Russian, so they use the Z letter to compensate." Turning the page, he showed it to Justin.

"Wow," Justin said, and tried copying the letters down underneath Lance's example. His script was a little messier. "Show me something else," he urged.

Lance laughed as his childlike enthusiasm, and obeyed. A phrase, this time, as he turned the page to show Justin.

? ????? ???

"What's it say?" he asked, tilting his head, as if that would make the foreign characters more readable.

"I love you," Lance mumbled, then blushed brilliantly. "It's just something I learned."

Absurdly touched, Justin traced the letters. He knew Lance had learned many other words, but he'd chosen these.

"I have something to tell you," he blurted out, his heart racing ahead of his mind. "And you're probably gonna hate me for it."

Lance blinked. "You can't have cheated on me already."

"No. And you never have to worry about that, ever, because I don't cheat." Justin looked Lance square in the face. He'd done a lot of shitty things in the past, but he'd always been faithful. Lance knew that.

"I know," Lance said. "What do you have to tell me?"

Justin looked down at the paper again, with its funny little letters. "I kind of came down here with the intention of getting you to, like, fall for me." He didn't want to say fall in love, because that sounded very corny and very rushed.

Lance blinked again, and Justin wished he'd stop doing that because he couldn't figure out what Lance was thinking when he just kept blinking. "Oh. OK."

"But I don't want you to think it was a game to me or anything, because it wasn't. I just wanted to see if you would maybe feel the same way I did, but instead of just asking you, I got really stupid and tried this big seduction thing, which seems to have worked, but I don't want you here under, like, false pretenses or anything."

"Oh." Lance was quiet as he thought. From downstairs, the big grandfather clock in the foyer sounded one. It was late.

"Are you mad?" Justin asked tentatively, afraid of the answer.

"No. Confused. When you said if I would feel the way you did, what did you mean, exactly?" Lance was gnawing on his lip, one of Justin's habits he'd picked up sometime in the past two weeks.

Instead of speaking, Justin held up the little bit of paper, a questioning look in his eyes.

"Oh," Lance breathed out. "Good." Then he rolled over and turned out the light, plunging the room into darkness once again.

Moments ticked by as Lance snuggled down under the covers again. Justin had frozen in place.

"Um, Lance?"

"Yeah?" The comforter muffled his voice.

"Does that mean we're OK?" Justin asked. Lance rolled over to face him, lifting a hand to Justin's face. He said something exotic sounding, then tugged Justin down into his arms.

"What's that mean?" Justin asked.

Lance pulled the paper out of Justin's hands and pressed it against Justin's heart. A smile grew across Justin's face, and he burrowed back into the embrace.

"But if I'm gonna keep staying here, you have to get some better shades so this room will be darker," Lance said groggily, right before he drifted off into sleep.

**

The last night in Orlando, Justin and Lance volunteered to get dinner for everyone. Justin peeled out of the driveway, loving the way his car took the curvy street leading away from Johnny's place-- the convertible, today, with its buttery leather interior that still had a hint of new-car smell. The top was down and it was almost as if they were flying.

Beside him, Lance swore as Justin flew through a yellow-yellow-red light. "Jesus, how is it possible you still have a license?" His hand had a white-knuckled grip on the door handle.

Pouting, Justin took another corner with a squeal of the tires. "I only have three speeding tickets. And one of them was a totally lame cop on a power trip."

Lance didn't really believe him, but he also didn't want to start a debate that would take Justin's attention away from the road. He closed his eyes and felt his stomach drop as they squealed to a stop. Thank God for seatbelts.

They made it to the restaurant in record time, considering the rush hour traffic. Justin had wanted to surprise the guys by driving across town to their old favorite Chinese place, near where they used to live.

The place wasn't much more than a take-out counter and a few tables, with faded wallpaper and peeling linoleum, but they had great food. On the wall were pictures of famous Orlando natives. Lance pointed out one of the five of them, faded from years of sun, proudly displayed between a shot of the Backstreet Boys and a photo of a player from the Orlando Magic. They looked so young, Justin thought, so innocent and hopeful. And so happy.

The owner fawned over them when they picked up the food, asking them to sign menus, taking more pictures. It was sweet, because he remembered them from way back when, and Justin felt a little bad that the guy only looked vaguely familiar to him. They got their food, with extra fortune cookies, and headed back to the car. Lance laughed when Justin insisted they put a towel over the back seat in case the grease from the bags leaked onto his leather interior.

Lance didn't look quite as panicked on the way home, but Justin thought that might have been because he was praying. He almost laughed aloud at the thought. It was fun to drive just a little faster, take the turns a little tighter, just to make Lance gasp.

"I'm never riding with you again," Lance said, climbing out of the car when they got back. "My heart can't take that shit."

"You're heart's fine," Justin said. He knew it, because Lance had told him over and over again. After the whole secret surgery thing, Justin had worried for months.

"It won't be if I keep scaring it like that." Grabbing two of the bags, Lance took three steps toward the door.

Justin picked up the rest of the food and closed the door with a bump of his hip. "You're a wuss." They paused at the door, fumbling to get it open. "Does this mean you're not gonna come for a ride on my bike?"

"I'd say that's pretty much a definite." Lance's voice was light with humor, and he flashed Justin a brilliant smile. God, he was beautiful.

"Too bad," Justin said. He leaned in close as Lance stepped into the hall. His hands were full, but he pressed his body against Lance's back and whispered in his ear. "It's such an amazing feeling, out on the open road, wind in your face, power between your legs. Your whole body just hums along. And if you're pressed up against someone. It's better than sex, sometimes."

He had the pleasure of watching Lance shudder, feeling the ripples roll down his back. With a shrug, though, he let Lance step away, bringing the food to the kitchen. "But, you know, if you don't want to."

Lance eyed him warily. "You're evil."

"So are you," Justin said, and kissed him-- because it felt good to kiss him then, after flirting so shamelessly in the hallway.

He didn't get a chance to do more, though, because JC came in. Lance stepped away, casually, but JC wouldn't have noticed anyway. His eyes were focused on the bags in their hands.

"Hey! You got Chef Chang's!" Grabbing at them, JC started to unload white cartons and plastic containers of sauce. "You'd better have gotten Crab Rangoons," he was saying, spreading the food out on the table until he'd found what he was searching for. Justin smothered a giggle- JC always said Rangoons, and no about of arguing could convince him to singularize the world.

"Like we'd forget," Lance said. He followed JC to the table. Everyone descended on the dining room, filling the house with chatter and laughter.

Kelly had brought Briahna by, so Justin went into the kitchen to get more plates. He found Chris popping a few pills at the sink.

"Do we need to start planning the intervention?"

Chris grimaced. "Nah. Just some Pepsid. For the grease. I'm not a twenty-year-old any more." Chris hated the fact that his body could no longer handle a lifestyle of junk food and fried everything. It was the one really sucky thing about getting older, he figured.

Justin smiled sympathetically. "But would you really want to be?"

"Nah," Chris replied, affectionately rubbing Justin's head as he walked by. Justin ducked and laughed.

"Oh, and J?" Chris said. "You and Lance. It's good. It's really good." Then he was gone, into the dining room, yelling for Joey to use a fork, for God's sake, they didn't need his germs all over the egg rolls.

Justin paused in the doorway, watching his friends divvy up the food. If he squinted his eyes just right, he could almost pretend it was just like before, five friends having dinner with everything in front of them.

But then there wouldn't be Kelly and Briahna, and as much as Justin hadn't noticed, they'd somehow become a part of this family. There wouldn't be his solo album and all of the opportunities it'd brought him, or JC's album and the breakthroughs it had accomplished. There wouldn't be space and side projects and all of the growing up they'd done. Things were so much the same now as they had been a million times before, but there was something different here. Something Justin wouldn't trade for the entire world.

Lance was there, beckoning for him to come sit, smiling at him lovingly. So even if he wasn't as innocent, as young, as hopeful anymore, he had something better.

**

That night, they ended up back at Joey's, hanging out on the deck, sharing beers and stories. It was, Justin thought, incredibly normal, spending time with his work friends, talking about sports and gossip and women.

Lance volunteered to put Briahna to bed, disappearing with the sleepy little girl just after dusk. Justin watched him go, imagining that it might someday be their child. Far off and unlikely, he knew, but it was a nice fantasy.

When Lance didn't come back right away, Justin went to look for him. He found him sitting in the rocking chair in the baby's room, reading a storybook. His voice was incredibly soothing, low, and melodic, spinning the fairy tale. Justin just stood in the doorway, watching.

When Lance finally closed the book, Briahna was fast asleep. "She missed the end of the story," Justin whispered, leaning forward to kiss her cheek before Lance laid her down.

"She's heard it before. Rumplestiltskin's a classic." Lance tugged her light blanket up to her shoulders and turned on the nightlight in the corner.

"I haven't heard that story in a long time," Justin said. "I'd forgotten about turning straw into gold. Too bad no one ever came up with a real way to do that."

"I think it's supposed to be a metaphor." Lance leaned in close to kiss Justin as the shadows danced around the room. "For something that's plain becoming extraordinary. Something simple becoming special."

Justin smiled and thought,as he kissed Lance, extraordinary.

END


End file.
